


too late for takeout

by fated_addiction



Category: GOT7, K-pop, KARA (Band), Korean Actor RPF, 룸메이트 | Roommate (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Oh My God, Romance, like a lot of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 06:26:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3559484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fated_addiction/pseuds/fated_addiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Honestly, she doesn't know where the idea comes from.</i>
</p>
<p>OR that time Youngji decides to write a list and then forgets about it. Of course, Jackson tries to work with it though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	too late for takeout

**Author's Note:**

> Request for a [tumblr anon](fated-addiction.tumblr.com), who was very sweet and wanted Youngji to initiate things. So this sort of happened? Enjoy!

Honestly, she doesn't know where the idea comes from.

There is no sequence of events: she likes lists, loves lists, is dead _set_ on organizing her life in the aspects that she can control (Seungyeon-eonni is always saying, "listen, there is _nothing_ wrong with planning your retirement properly!"), and stuff like this _always_ suddenly, weirdly, happens to her. But she's first home, even though Joon is upstairs sleeping already, sets up on the couch with about a thousand pillows, a blanket from Jackson's bedroom, and a pen with a takeout menu from the kitchen. She's not hungry, but she finds a space, on the back of the menu, that's wide enough for her to write NOT BIRTHDAY WISHES BUT WISHES I WANT FROM WANG JACKSON because weirdly, this is all about things that make sense.

Her phone rings then.

"Where are you?"

Youngji sinks the couch, her mouth tugging at a smile. "Hello," she says. "It's good to hear from you, Wang Jackson. My day was wonderful. It was really busy. I had a Music Bank stage and --"

"Yo." Youngji hears his hand move over the phone. There's a rustle of clothing and she rolls her eyes. "Are you at the house?"

She huffs. "Why are you so frustrating?"

"I wanted to say hi."

"So say _hi_ ," Youngji chides, kicking at the blankets. She scribbles _wash my hair_ because, well, she was watching this drama once and it was really sweet and almost romantic when the male lead -- oh god, she thinks. She rubs her eyes. "And I'm at the house. Joon-oppa is asleep. But this is, like, the first time I've beat you back in awhile?"

Jackson laughs. "I'll be there soon."

She rolls her eyes and writes _takes care of me_ but thinks, hey, that's kind of vague. She bites at her pen.

"Yah!"

Youngji blinks, startled. "What?"

"What are you doing?" he asks and she can see him pouting, in her head. There's a laugh and she figures that he's with his members. "You're not paying attention to me."

"I'm not waiting up for you either," she quips and he makes a sound, a weird sound, weird for him anyway, because Jackson makes a lot of weird sounds. She's getting better at deciding which ones are important. "I'm tired," she says. "And my ankle hurts a little -- I fell during practice."

He's suddenly more alert. "Are you okay?" he asks, and then next to him, she _swears_ hears Bambam next to him, asking: "What happened to her?"

Youngji crosses out ~~_takes care of me_~~ , then writes again: _takes care of me_ with a sub-point that says _for real_. It's too vague too and she ends up writing a bunch of question marks next to it anyway.

"I'm fine," she half-answers. "I'm on the couch. I don't know if I want to walk upstairs because Joon-oppa left the door open to his room and you can _hear_ him."

"So take my bed," he says.

Her cheeks are warm. "Because ... that wouldn't be weird."

"I'm serious." She hears a door shut, another one open, and then there's Mark's voice, somewhere in the background, saying something about _doing something_ and well, she's already getting a headache trying to over think what any of this could mean. "You can wait for me there."

"I'm not _waiting_ up for you, idiot." 

"So then what are you doing?"

Youngji pushes her hair behind her ear. She wants a present, she thinks. Is that selfish? Maybe she should asks Hara or Sohyun. But that's a bad idea; she would have to sit through another conversation about how secretly dating is not a _bad_ idea, you just need a little finesse and to be as obvious as possible.

"Youngji?"

She groans. "I'm thinking too hard."

"About what?" she hears another door slam and it's a lot quieter. She shifts and settles against the pillows further. She writes _jewelry_ next. "Don't give yourself a headache."

"You're not _funny_."

"I'm hilarious, actually." She sticks out her tongue out. "And I know you're making faces at me, so stop."

The paper sits on her knees now, over the blankets, so that when she writes _couples jewelry_ and then starts to cross it out, it ends up like ~~couples jewel~~ ry with an inky hole. Besides, she thinks, what would they get -- everyone speculates that rings are the new _thing_ and if anything, Jackson has the few rings that he likes to wear because, yo, they're super, super, super, super cool, Youngji-ah. She writes _bracelet_ and holds out her wrist, studying her skin and naked hand.

"You're not paying attention to me again."

She barely bats an eye. "Are you in the car?"

"Yes." The suspicion hits his voice. "Why? What are you going to do?"

"I'm not waiting up for you," she says. Her hand starts to move, back over the paper and with the pen. She writes _want to kiss him first_ and oh god, oh _god_ that's so stupid because she's watched about a million dramas, and it's, of course, stupid and romantic and still really _stupid_. But this is the modern world! She's a modern girl! Modern girls do modern things, you know.

Of course, she's also imagined a million different things to do, more than million different ways to go up to him and just _do it_ which, well, why this list is the dumbest thing ever. She drops the pen and crumples the takeout menu. It's such a terrifying thought. It may seem like the simplest thing -- she likes him, she more than likes him, but _actually_ doing something about it changes the nature of their relationship. You're even more serious about this than you know, her sister always says.

But he hangs up after saying something and she agrees to it because, well, she's sure she's going to get roped into it anyway. She tosses the menu to the side and the pen is lost somewhere in the couch, among the blankets, and will probably reappear when Cucumber decides to be a terrifying, cute, little brat.

She falls asleep this way, with a tiny little frown, which, if anything, is Jackson's excuse to fall asleep next to her. They're not too close, but his hand is curled around hers and Sunny is all too delighted to snap a selca of them in the morning and tape it by the wall in her bedroom with a caption full of hearts.

The paper is gone in the morning.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

Her bangs are new. Or not new.

They're still _weird_. They're new to _her_ and weird and slightly curly which, ugh, annoys her just a little bit. She doesn't feel pretty, which is stupid, according to Gyuri. She keeps picking at the strands of hair, pushing them away from her face. She feels uncomfortable and a little shy. They're an hour fresh and she's only at the salon for another one, two more hours of free time and then off to the rest of her schedule for the day.

"You gotta stop making those faces."

Youngji jumps, wide-eyed. Jackson stands over her, at the mirror, his hands sinking over her shoulders. She hits at his hands and he laughs.

"Why are you _here_?" she breathes, and he jerks a hand over his shoulder, there's JB and there's Hara, talking into a corner and then she remembers that they have a photo shoot for some promotional thing. 

"I have some time. Your manager said you had time before you take off to do your thing for the day."

"My thing?" she blinks.

"You know, your schedule," he says and his hands are already in her hair, fingers dragging through the strands. His expression is serious, maybe too serious, and he turns, standing at her side. "Your hair's so much longer."

She shrugs. Her throat tights slightly and she feels inexplicably shy. "Uh, yeah?"

"I like it," he tells her and says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Did you color it?"

Youngji shrugs. "Does it matter?"

"I'm trying to compliment you," he scowls. "I know the bangs are new."

"No," she retorts. "You're just being _weird_."

Jackson doesn't really say anything, doesn't deny it, doesn't agree to it, and pulls at her hair again. It takes a minute to realize that he's braiding it and, weirdly, he's really good at braiding her hair. He's careful and fast, way too aware of the fact that his rings may or may not get caught in her hair and that would hurt her. His fingers graze her temples and then he moves around her chair, switching to start braiding a second pigtail from the other side.

She really doesn't know what to say.

Her gaze remains settled on the mirror though, watching him. He bites his lips. She counts three times. He looks over her head and she has to bite back the inside of her cheeks, if anything, to keep from blushing _too_ hard.

Jackson is too readable anyway. His face is open, slightly flushed and his eyes are darting around the room. He looks shy. He's not shy. He seems to be deciding something. She doesn't know if she has it in her to say anything.

"Let's get coffee."

Her mouth puckers. "Downstairs?"

"It's a nice cafe," he says, waving his hand. "You like lighting and flowers and stuff and we can sit upstairs."

Youngji's a little dry. "Yeah," she reaches forward, flicking her fingers against his forehead. "Those are all nice things."

"I already asked the noonas."

She laughs, out right. "Seriously?"

"What?" Jackson shrugs and grabs her hand. Their fingers link together and then he pockets their hands too. "I'm practical _and_ appropriate. Their permission is important too, you know."

"You are so _weird_ ," she half-teases, and laughs, really, laughs, when he messes up her bangs. She tries to push his hand away and he grabs her wrist.

"Whatever." Jackson smirks. "You like me anyway."

He pulls her out of the chair. She barely has enough time to greet JB; Hara is already laughing, waving them off when it finally hits her that he's dragging her down the stairs and to the cafe that's literally next door.

They stumble forward, together, and his palm is warm against hers. His fingers give hers a little pull, settling his hand with her back into his jacket pocket. He turns them into the wall and she giggles, god, and that's so _stupid_ , but it sort of slips and she's pressed against the stair railing too.

"Wang Jackson," she breathes. He towers over her. A little, she tells herself. Just a little bit.

He's watching her, his expression too clear, and she thinks to herself _do it now_ but that wouldn't make any sense. She wants to kiss him. There's mood. It's a desperate buildup, whirling around in her belly. Her mouth feels tight. She tries to focus, but her eyes fall to his mouth. She watches him swallow. There's a moment and she can't just go and _kiss_ him, right outside the salon, way too close to anything public, and oh god, what if she forgot to brush her teeth again? That would be the worst.

Jackson's mouth opens, then it closes. He laughs softly, more to himself than anything else.

He pulls back first. "Coffee," he says.

He's bewildered and she knows it. She can't bring herself to say anything else.

Coffee's just coffee anyway.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

"Remember that time Jackson started making me dinner?" she says into the phone, to her sister, who says and sounds like she's rolling her eyes. Her sister starts in too: "He hasn't started already?"

Youngji doesn't know how she got to the kitchen. She knows how she got to the share house though, and how it was Guku Joo's job to keep her occupied with a shopping trip while Jackson does -- well, she's not entirely sure what's happening right now.

She is seated at the table. Her eyes are sleepy. There's a place setting in front of her. One of the wine glasses is filled with soda, or something that looks like soda, grape soda maybe, purple cola, which, well, _weird_ , but GOT7 did just get back from Japan and Jackson likes to push weird stuff on her all the time.

"Did he call you?" she asks, watching Jackson walking around the kitchen. There are pans everywhere and spring onions, which have a particular smell next to the garlic, chicken, and she swears she sees _some_ kind of ramen from Guku Joo's secret stash, out in plain sight.

"He did." Her sister sighs. A page turns on the other line. "He told me he wants to take care of you."

Youngji blinks. She watches Jackson run to the refrigerator. He grabs the eggs.

"O-kay," she drawls.

Her sister snorts. "Yah. It's what he said! So what I said is make you food. And since you don't really like sweet things. Well, that's not true. You have to be in a mood --"

"I hate you, eonni," she mutters.

"Well, it's true." Her sister ignores her. "I told him to make something savory. He might surprise you."

"I think I see ramen though..."

"He's trying," she says. "Give the guy a break --"

She doesn't know what to think because her sister hangs up and she still doesn't understand how she gets to the kitchen, or if this is all part of some conspiracy, or it's just as simple as Jackson learning how to cook and oh, wait, let's test this on _Youngji_ because his members already know. She can't even begin to understand where to start with any of this.

"So."

She pushes her chair back. He jumps, looking over at her. Jackson looks really, really, really guilty. Like too guilty. His mouth makes that weird little line that's almost a smile, almost a smirk, almost _oh oops well can't hide now_ sort of expression.

She rests her chin on her hand. "What's all this?" she asks, maybe again, it doesn't matter. She's still a little more than disoriented. "I'm not hungry."

"But you will be," he says. Then he pouts. "And it's not going well," he mutters.

"What is?"

Jackson sighs. She bites her lip.

"Nothing," he says. "Want chicken instead?"

"Isn't that chicken over there?" Youngji points and Jackson scowls, grabbing the chicken and shoving it back into the fridge. She shifts again and almost gets up, but then he's cleaning up faster than she's ever seen him. Plates go back in the cabinet. He's wiping down the countertops and that weird, unsettling onion smell is gone.

"We can just order takeout."

He moves and sits down with her, tossing his kitchen towel to the side. He picks up her glass and drinks the purple stuff, frowns, and pushes it aside too.

"Are you hungry?"

She shrugs. "I mean, I could eat."

"That's not an answer," he frowns.

"I don't really feel hungry," she says honestly and he suddenly looks _crushed_ , like really crushed, and she starts to feel guilty. "But sure," she murmurs, her mouth curling. To reassure him, she tells herself.

"Cool."

It happens without really defining the start of a moment. It happens that she bites her lip, that she shifts a little closer, and that maybe, just maybe her knee leans into his. She reaches forward, brushing her fingers against his forehead. He looks startled first. She's blushing, but feels a little braver and gently flicks her fingers against his forehead too. He blinks, laughs, is startled and she's dragging herself over the edge of her chair.

He's biting his lip. It's stupid, she thinks. But she may kiss him and she's never wanted to kiss him more because it's more than him just being Jackson. She thinks that something in her is changing again and she's coming to terms with more than just her feelings, it's her feelings and _then_ some. Her mind suddenly flashes back to that time, on _Weekly Idol_ , where it was them, the others, and those stupid lie detector games. Silly games, you know? She was just as honest with her feelings as he was. 

There's just a difference between recognizing, saying, and then doing something about it.

Jackson draws back. He flushes, standing. He goes and grabs the phone, standing against the counter too.

The moment isn't entirely gone. She openly watches him, swallow.

He holds his phone up. His voice is low. 

"I'll call then," he says.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

The ring sort of, well, _appears_. 

It's not hard to pick out; among all the styling tools, makeup, and her coffee, it sort of just sits there. It's got cupcake on it, or rather, cupcake frosting which, confuses and grosses her out at the same time.

"What's this?" she asks Sohyun, who drops down next to her, settling in for makeup. She picks it up, holding it up for her to see too. "Is this yours?"

"No," Sohyun says. "It was there earlier when I was doing my hair." The other girl is careful with her words. "It was in a cupcake. But Lizzy took the cupcake."

"But left the ring?"

Sohyun's grin is wide. "Wee-lll."

Youngji reaches for one of the makeup wipes, cleaning off the frosting from the ring. It's really pretty, silver, subtle, and with this braid engraving. It's her, but not her, and she's really not good with these things, she thinks, because she'll think too much of it, try and put some sort of random meaning, and then hate herself for it all the same. Her mind pushes his name up.

She stares at Sohyun. "Did he --"

"Finish your makeup," she says. "They're in the room at the end of the hall. They have a stage too. N-oppa made sure to tell me. Like twice."

Youngji sighs loudly. Her hands cover her face. Her stylist-eonni comes over and she squirms through her hair and makeup because WHAT DOES THIS ALL MEAN is the only thing she can think about, even going as far as to text it to him, but not press send because he's down the hall and she's going to so kill him.

"I really hate things in food," she mutters and Sohyun laughs. It's not even about the cupcake.

She struggles through being wired for stage. They are on in an hour so she ducks, fumbles through greetings to sunbaes, and manages to get to the end of the hall.

N answers the door. "Ha." Her eyes narrow. He grins widely. "I'll get him."

"Tell him to meet me in the stairway," she orders, and then whirls around, which is so unlike her, to go and hide and grip the ring a little too tightly as she walks into the emergency exit. She isn't the kind of girl that likes these events, big or small. She likes jewelry but not too much. She likes hand holding and dancing and stupid movies and running around, trying to find adventures.

The door opens and Jackson appears, amused. He's ready for his stage too, refitting his hat over his hair.

"What's this?"

She holds up the ring. He falters. Then he looks at her like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"A ring," he says.

"Yah!" She hits his arm. "There was cupcake on it."

"Did you eat the cupcake?" he asks.

"No." Her eyes narrow. "You know I don't like things in food. It's weird and --" he steps closer and she tries to finish, "well, you know that, Wang Jackson."

"Girls like jewelry."

She stomps her foot. "Just give it to me yourself," she says, shoving it into his hand. "I don't need anything _special_."

He looks at her, then looks down at her hand and her hand is still in his hand, her fingers in _his_ palm, and okay, maybe she's just started to notice too.

"Here," he mutters.

He grabs her hand, turns her wrist up, then slides the ring on one of her fingers. It's cool against her skin. It fits. It's weird because she feels like this is something her _mother_ would go and suggest as a gift to her, but she can't really begin to speculate what's what and how much and who is doing what and why is she sort of, kind of, _maybe_ freaking out.

"It looks pretty," Jackson says. He looks satisfied. "I have good taste," he says too.

Her mouth opens. Then it closes. She laughs shakily.

"I --"

Her hair is in her eyes. Her mouth feels a little dry and a little heavier. She has to go and sing in an hour, she thinks. She can't think anything more. Her ears are ringing.

"You wanted jewelry."

She stares at him. "When did I say that?" she asks and her voice, it's a little huskier than it needs to be. She can taste the question. "How are you in my head?" she asks then, staring at her hand next.

"I'm just that good."

Youngji scoffs. "It's jewelry," she mutters. Then: "But wait --" she's suspicious, even more so. "What did you do?" she asks dryly. "Boys only get girls jewelry when they do something."

"I didn't do _anything_ ," he says. He pulls at her hand. "But you like it?"

She rolls her eyes. Then she bites her lip. "It's really pretty," she says quietly, studying their hands. "It fits well," she says too. "But I don't know why --"

"You ask a lot of questions."

"I don't know what's happening," she tries again, to explain, because she's just not used to someone doing stuff for her. It's even stranger because it's a ring and it's jewelry and so, wait, is something happening and she's supposed to catch up? Her head hurts.

Jackson huffs. His feet shuffle. He looks at her, then looks away, and she's not entirely sure if she should say something. They are never awkward when they talk. Is he hiding something? He tried once, she tells herself. But he's so totally bad at hiding things from her.

"Look."

He steps forward, almost into her. His fingers brush over her bangs. He lets go of her hand too.

"I found your list."

Youngji's eyes are huge. "What?"

"Your list," he says. "On the Chinese takeout menu -- Guku Joo-noona got really mad at me when I told her I threw it away because I wanted to save it, you know."

She leans against the wall, her hands cupping her head. Her heart is racing.

"So." She starts putting it together. "You were trying to do the things on the list?"

"Yeah," he says. "Your non-birthday wishes. And I was trying to create an opportunity for you, you know, to, well --" he waves his hands between them, "do stuff."

Youngji blushes. "I'm not a pervert!"

He reaches forward, cupping his hand over her mouth. Her eyes widen. He presses a finger to his mouth. They listen as laughter passes the door. 

"I know _that_ ," he hisses.

She pushes at his chest, but makes no move to step back. His hand moves to wrap around hers too.

"Then don't make me sound like one."

He rolls his eyes. "I didn't meant to. That's not what I meant at all, actually, I was trying to do you a solid so that in fact, IN FACT, you can go, kiss me, and cross that off your list because, look, I would kind of like it too!"

Her eyes are huge, her mouth opens and she can't really say anything because her heart was racing first, now, _now_ it's ready to burst out of her chest. She stares and stares at him because it hits her, first too easily, then for _real_ because how did he find the list and why didn't he just say anything to her because this could have all been avoided, really, rings and cupcakes and all.

He stares at her. She stares back. Then she does something incredibly stupid.

She turns out, from underneath him, then pulls him by the hand. She drags him behind her, down a flight of stairs, then one more to just be _safe_. Since she's going to do something really, really, really stupid, of course. He doesn't ask anything of her and for once, she's glad that there's no arguing, or maybe, there's going to be arguing after and it'll be a little less weird.

She stops them at the stairs. She turns around, drops her hands and puts them on her hips. She surveys him. She thinks she's going to decide, or rather, she's going to plan to decide but all of that goes out the window because he's watching her, waiting, and she just can't even think about it anymore.

"I don't --" her voice is soft, warm, and she's serious, really serious because he needs to know. "I don't need a ring in a cupcake or a cupcake or our entire group of friends planning for us or any sort of event."

His expression is unreadable. She steps forward. Then, slowly, her hands rise and brush over his face.

"I just need you to be you, you know."

She presses up, on her toes, and her hands stay just like that, framing his face and sliding slowly into his hair. She thinks his hat falls off or she hits it, it doesn't even matter. But her mouth presses against his, closed first, soft and wet and he sort of just sighs, waiting for her, since this is her kiss and _her_ wish and maybe, maybe that's the most romantic thing she can think of anyone doing for her.

Then he starts to kiss her back.

It's a first kiss, then it's not, then her mouth opens over his and his teeth bite at her lip and someone breathes a little too heavily, enough for him to turn them and press her against the way. His hands drop around and slide down her back. Her fingers grab at his shoulders, then his chest, and she's making fistfuls of his shirt. She feels like she can't be close enough to him and that's terrifying, makes her nervous and fluttery and there are about a million different things going on in her head, from _he wants this too_ to _this is such a bad idea_ to _who really cares_ because at the end of the day, it's him and her and something about it makes sense.

They break apart. He's breathing the heaviest now. A door above their heads opens and closes. There's laughter, but it walks up the stairs.

She bites her lip and tries to swallow. His mouth starts to turn and then his hand is tangled in her hair, pulling her forward. It presses against her forehead and her skin feels hot. Her face nearly bursts into a blush when she feels him smiles too.

"You don't need to write a list," he tells her and he means it too, maybe more than she knows how to understand, then and there, because her heart is racing so fast, his fingers brushing against the back her neck is making her lose focus, and she can't really think of anything else to say. They need to get back upstairs too.

"Okay," she manages. "You win," she says, and Jackson just laughs and grins.

A week later, back at the share house, she finds the list, carefully folded and in his jacket pocket.

He knows her best, after all.


End file.
